Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall
by Cerby
Summary: Who's the fairest of them all? A lesson on why I shouldn't let my friends write on dusty TV screens. Or anything, for that matter.


A/N: I'm so sad to say there's a true story behind this somewhere.

* * *

One bright, sunny morning at the infamous Smash Mansion, the bathroom mirror became a scene of intense intrigue. It brought endless rounds of strife and angst to three unlikely characters...and it actually gave Marth grey hairs. (Although he would wholeheartedly deny it until the day he finally croaked.)

And it all started when Marth went to go brush his teeth. Due to complications with his own bathroom (Someone thought it'd be amusing to cover everything with pink shaving cream,) the poor disgruntled prince was stuck using the community bathroom with the rest of the Mansion's inhabitants. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem. But today someone took an abnormally long shower, using up every drop of hot water to be found in the building, and had finally emerged five minutes ago to slink off into obscurity. They would doubtless be found out and beat into oblivion later for wasting water, but for now Marth was just glad the bathroom was empty.

At least it wasn't his bathroom door getting whaled on amongst angry cries for him to get the heck outta the shower before they sent the plumbers in.

A wave of sweltering hot steam rolled out when Marth opened the door, the sudden humidity immediately making his hair damp, limp, and lackluster. Swearing quietly under his breath (He was a prince, remember, and princes shouldn't swear,) he slunk into the room and bent to examine the deplorable state of his hair in the foggy mirror when he stopped. And blinked. And boggled. There was writing on the mirror. Marth squinted at it.

"M...arth...is...sexy?" Pause. "...oh, c'mon. I don't need this crap in the morning." But there was still more writing, so he read on, eyes steadily growing a little wider.

--

Ike was in a fairly good mood this morning. He'd successfully beaten Kirby off the last of the pancakes and remaining carton of orange juice at breakfast, and had just finished ironing his cape down in the laundry room. With the bright red fabric fluttering behind him in a nonexistent breeze and Ragnell over his shoulder, the Crimean strolled up the hall back towards his room to work on polishing his precious sword.

That is, before that deranged queer of a prince latched onto his freshly ironed cape and dragged him off down the hall towards the bathroom.

"Marth! Hey, what gives? Get off me, prissy, I don't feel like being molested today,"

"Oh shut up," Marth grumbled, towing the struggling Crimean towards his destination of porcelain hell. "Get in here and read this."

Thunked down on the toilet, Ike rubbed his sore rear and glared at Marth. "This better be good," he muttered, looking at the mirror. "Marth is sexy." Pause. "So? I don't need proof of your transvestite - ness, girly man - "

"Shut up and read the rest of it," Marth hissed, bristling. Ike closed his trap for a moment, looking back at the mirror and squinting.

"So...is...Ike?"

Silence filled the bathroom.

"...good god Marth, I didn't know you felt that way about m - "

Ike came close to getting a faceful of Falchion as the prince struggled to contain his frustration. "I didn't write that. And I didn't do the bit below it, either. So you can stop the comments before they start,"

Once again, scrutinizing looks at the mirror. Ike silently mouthed the words, then staaaaared nervously at Marth. "You sure?"

"I'm sure I'm going to make you eat your cape," Marth growled, glaring back.

--

They dragged Pit back to the bathroom kicking and screaming about child molesters.

" - elp! HELP! I'm too YOUNG to lose my virginity! Not until I get laid by Palutena - "

"Would you shut up already?"

"Maybe I should just hit 'im with Ragnell,"

Pit meeped and slunk down as low in his shirt as he could get, possibly trying to slip out of his tunic and vanish. Marth rolled his eyes as he shoved the angel into the bathroom and plunked him onto the toilet. "Now read the mirror and we won't molest you."

"Marth! You pedophi - "

"...I'm joking, Ike. Seriously."

Skittering as far back on the toilet as he could get, Pit gave both blue - haired men a nervous look before studying the mirror. "Marth is sexy. So is Ike."

"Read the last bit, Pit."

Squint. "Pit...is...better. Pit is better?" Pause. "OH YEAH, BABY - "

CLONK.

"That was not necessary," Marth muttered, watching Ike reshoulder his sword after silencing Pit with it.

"Yes it was," Ike nodded resolutely, setting the angel in a somewhat upright position on the toilet so he wouldn't slink down on the floor. "Now what?"

"We figure out who used the bathroom last, obviously," the prince shrugged, leaning forward once again to study the mirror and straighten his hair at the same time. "Does this handwriting all look the same to you?"

"...no." Ike frowned. "So the first person who was here must've wrote the first bit, then another person came in and wrote the second, and then another wrote the third..." The Crimean stopped talking and looked at Marth, then the both of them looked down at the prone form of Pit on the toilet, frowns etched on their faces.

"...there are some sick people in this mansion,"

"Hoo yeah,"

--

Meanwhile, somewhere out of sight in Box HQ!

"Dude. Snake. That was _amazing_."

"Yeah, seriously. I can't believe you were actually able to fool them with that handwriting!"

The Soldier of Legend chuckled darkly. "I know my shit, boys. The handwriting's all perfect matches to Peach, Zelda and Samus, in case they get curious. Now, my payment?"

"Here ya go." Handed over to Snake was a giant bag full of gummy worms, several Bo - ombs in a sack and a pointy green hat. "But why the hat?"

"That's my business. Now scat," Snake growled gruffly, shoving his customers out of the box and slamming it back down on the ground, a sure sign that shop was closed. Going back to his evil cackles, Snake eagerly dug into the gummy worms, munching the chewy goodness. The hat was for confidentiality purposes, of course. In case those pinheads somehow figured him out and came knocking, they wouldn't beat Snake up. Oh no.

Because Snake was too clever for that.

"No one gets the drop on the Soldier of Legend…"


End file.
